


You and Me, Up a Tree

by the_dala



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Tree Climbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dala/pseuds/the_dala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Bones is not typically inclined to wax poetic over colorful auroras on planets where they’ve been stranded, howled at, and forced to take shelter until the Enterprise can locate them.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and Me, Up a Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Archiving my old Star Trek fic from LiveJournal - this was originally published November 16th, 2009

 

“Acrophobia.”

Jim blinks late afternoon sun out of his eyes. “What?”

Bones smirks at Jim from two meters above his head. “Fear of heights. I don’t have that one. Trees have enough sense to never leave the good solid earth, thank God.”

“Go ahead and jinx us, why don‘t you,” Jim mutters, annoyed. He's dabbled in Classics studies enough that he could’ve worked it out himself. It’s just that he never expected Bones to respond to a little friendly ribbing by leaping into the trees like an overgrown howler monkey. Who’s already gained another meter while Jim stands around catching flies with his mouth.

“C’mon, fearless leader,” Bones calls down. “Only place to go is up.”

Jim scowls, slings his pack over his shoulder, and grabs a low-hanging branch.

By the time he’s caught up, Bones has settled himself on a limb that's wide enough to sit three humans side by side and carpeted in bright pink moss. From this vantage point they can see over most of the surrounding tree growth and into the valley below. Despite the wandering canine-like predators whose hunting cries drove them up here in the first place, the tableau is quite lovely.

Bones is not typically inclined to wax poetic over colorful auroras on planets where they’ve been stranded, howled at, and forced to take shelter until the _Enterprise_ can locate them, particularly when said aurora’s atmospheric properties are exactly what’s blocking their comm signals. And yet he’s smiling now, face lit up in a way Jim sees far too infrequently. The flecks of green in his warm hazel eyes are a perfect match for the leaves rustling in a light breeze.

“Used to spend all my summers climbing trees,” Bones remarks, patting the space beside him. Jim clambers up, nudging against Bones’ side and latching onto his thigh for balance (okay, and maybe for a grope). Bones isn't so preoccupied with reliving his boyhood that he can’t roll his eyes, and Jim grins at this more familiar reaction.

“Jim and Bo-oones, sittin’ in a tree…”

“I’ll knock you _outta_ this tree, see if I won’t.”

“F - U - C - K - I - N -”

Bones claps a hand over his mouth. “I bet those creepy alien-mutant-wolf-things would just love a nice filet of Starfleet captain for supper.”

Jim’s tongue darts out, tasting bark and dirt and something vaguely sweet that must be sap. Bones makes a very satisfying “eugh!” noise and snatches his hand away, which leaves Jim enough room to swing his legs up and and scoot back against the broad trunk.

“Okay, so sex in a giant tree is maybe not my brightest idea ever. But you’re not gonna get any rest way over there,” he points out, waggling his eyebrows. Bones snorts, but scoots over until he’s leaning back against Jim’s chest. Jim wraps both arms around him and tucks his chin over Bones’ shoulder.

It's funny; he never realizes how loud a starship is until he's been planetside for awhile. Aside from the occasional animal cry or insect murmur, the silence is broken only by the steady thrum of the heart under Jim's palm. He could swear he feels the forest breathing to the same rhythm.

Jim decides he likes this planet, mutant wolves notwithstanding.

They bunk down with a handful of protein nibs and a thermal blanket. Fortunately they're accustomed to close quarters, having shared a narrow dorm bed or two (Bones still insists on clipping lines between their belts and the branch). It's not the most comfortable place to spend the night, but it's not the worst, either. In the end Jim sleeps pretty well, high up in the trees with a familiar arm draped over his hip.

And if he falls off his perch when a hand sneaks into his pants around daybreak, at least the birds are the only ones around to witness the flailing and Bones' laughter.

 


End file.
